


i'll be singing you songs of tomorrow

by sunriises



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Families of Choice, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Mythology References, Trisha Elric Lives, Worldbuilding, Xerxes | Cselkcess, and then put it back together blindfolded with ducttape, by which i mean i grab canon and break it over my knee, hinted lingfan but only for one line, i only wrote the scenes that changed, or the ones that introduced/changed characters, uhhh most of the relationships are similar to canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27807358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunriises/pseuds/sunriises
Summary: Van Hohenheim agrees to visit Xerxes with his family. This changes everything.(Or: the one in which the Elric brothers experience the power of found family and get dragged into things they Did Not Ask to be dragged into)
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric & Trisha Elric, Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric & Van Hohenheim, Alphonse Elric & Everyone, Edward Elric & Everyone, Lan Fan & Ling Yao, Trisha Elric/Van Hohenheim
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	i'll be singing you songs of tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> 1) title from: poets of the fall - children of the sun  
> 2) the info about the dreamer is not mine; it comes from [these](https://thephilosophersapprentice.tumblr.com/post/634234752869744640/on-xerxian-creation-stories-and-spirituality) headcanons by thephilosophersapprentice  
> 3) hohenheim, ed and al write home in this au because i have no idea why they didn't in canon  
> 4) i took a majority of the xerxesian phrases used in this from persian, and xerxesian names from persian and hindi  
> 5) ed and al are ooc in this, but that ooc-ness comes from me attempting to estimate what their personalities would be like if they grew up in an environment like the one in this fic.

The first time Edward and Alphonse Elric take the now-familiar train to New Xerxes is the spring that they turn four. At their age, they barely register any of the train ride; they’re more focused on the view from the window, in Alphonse’s case, or sleep, in Edward’s case, than anything else.

The village of Kalan welcomes Van Hohenheim and the Elric family from the moment they arrive. The family stays in what was once Van Hohenheim’s home, before he moved to the capital.

Trisha Elric has never stepped foot in Xerxes before now; regardless, she is welcomed alongside her husband and her sons. After all, when it comes down to it, the people of Kalan aren't that far of a cry from those of Resembool, even less so after the fall of Old Xerxes.

After that first visit, from the last weeks of March to the first weeks of May, they go back every spring; Van Hohenheim had stopped calling Xerxes home a long time ago, and Trisha Elric had never started, but it isn’t too late for Edward and Alphonse to.

Their father leaves in the summer that they turn five years old.

“He’s _not_ coming back, Al!” Ed shouts a few weeks after he leaves.

“Yes he is,” Al responds, confident and clear and _sure_. “He wouldn’t leave us. He wouldn’t leave Mom.”

His first letter arrives in autumn of that year. 

(When Ed finds it in the bundle of mail the postman brings, something in his expression almost… relaxes. He doesn’t change the subject away from their father, or his disappearance, as abruptly anymore.)

With shaking hands and a steady voice, Trisha reads it out loud to her sons, stumbling over the Xerxesian words.

When he doesn’t return by the next spring, Ed, Al and their mother go back to Kalan without him.

The adults discuss Van Hohenheim’s disappearance in quiet tones, when they’re sure the children aren’t listening. The children, for their part, don’t say anything about it. Life, for the most part, continues as normal.

(Trisha Elric gets sick that spring. She survives, but only because the disease is caught and treated early.)

  
  
  


“I think I’m stuck!” Al calls from his perch on a branch.

“You need help getting down?” Cousin Hayat asks.

“Um - yeah.” 

“Alright; Arman, Ed, can you two watch the bucket for now?” It’s an easy task, considering the near-impossibility of anyone stealing the cashew fruit from them. 

When they nod, Hayat sets the bucket down and climbs up. 

Once Al is safely on the ground, Ed pokes his brother in the side.

“Turning into a cat, are you?”

“Stop it, Ed!” 

  
  
  


When they do alchemy in Kalan for the first time, they’re basing what they think will happen based on what happened in Amestris.

_Mom walks into the room, finding him and Ed drawing a transmutation circle._

Bahar- _amme_ walks into the room, finding him and Ed drawing a transmutation circle.

Ed presses his hands to it; a small bird emerges from the floor.

_Mom smiles at that, ruffling both his and Ed’s hair._

Bahar- _amme_ smiles at that, but her smile is almost scared.

She leaves the room.

  
  


From outside, he can hear _Tatta_ saying something along the lines of “wretched science”, fear in his voice, and Mom, voice clear and steady, responding with “They’re just children”.

They don’t do alchemy in Kalan after that day.

In public when they’re with Winry, when they don’t want to be overheard and understood, and sometimes just for fun, they speak a mix of Xerxesian, Drachman and Amestrian incomprehensible to anyone that isn’t them.

  
  
  


Edward and Alphonse Elric are nine years old when Amestris issues Order 3066; they are nine years old when things - people - start to change.

Ed doesn’t pretend not to notice the suspicious, almost _angry_ looks some people have started to give him, Al and especially their mother during the summer that news of the order reaches New Xerxes. It makes sense that they are angry at Amestris, but he and Mom and Al didn’t issue the order personally, aren’t helping carry it out themselves.

  
  


Edward and Alphonse Elric are nine years old when the first and last Ishvalan refugees arrive in Kalan.

He and Al, along with an Ishvalan girl about sixteen or seventeen years old, are chosen as translators because the Ishvalans don’t know any Xerxesian, and the Xerxesians don’t know any Ishvalan or Amestrian.

“Thank you,” the girl whispers in Amestrian; Ed can tell from her voice that she’s about to cry. Al repeats the phrase in Xerxesian to Laleh- _attai_ , standing behind them.

She gives Al her answer; Al blinks, no doubt trying to translate it in his head. When he does, though, his eyes practically light up.

“There’s no need to thank us, not when we’re all survivors.”

(When they return to Resembool, it’s to the news that Yuriy and Sarah Rockbell were also killed in Ishval.)

  
  
  


Izumi Curtis arrives in Resembool during a typical fall rainstorm. 

Ed and Al meet each other’s eyes, then their mother’s, and they nod in agreement with each other.

  
  


“Please teach us self-defense!”

“Where are your parents?”

A lady with brown hair and the same green eyes as the slightly taller boy steps through the crowd. 

“Are you okay with this?” Izumi asks her.

She doesn’t answer at first, instead turning to her sons and saying something in a language Izumi doesn’t understand.

  
  


“ _Are you making this choice with your clear-headed judgement?_ ” Mom asks; the fact that she uses Xerxesian instead of the Amestrian she’s familiar with - the Amestrian that would be easier - is almost enough to make Ed tear up.

“ _Yes, Mom_ ,” he and Al reply simultaneously.

Mom turns to Ms. Curtis then. “I’m alright with this.”

( _Van_ , Trisha Elric writes in her next letter to her husband. _Our boys are in Dublith._ )

  
Edward and Alphonse Elric are ten years old when...  
  


When Edward loses his left leg.

(They're eleven years old when Edward insists on starting rehabilitation, on practicing with the prosthetic that Hayat had fashioned for him - _early,_ Bahar- _amme_ chides, a frown of concern on her face. _Too early._ )

Edward Elric is, to put it mildly, odd. The boy isn’t a state alchemist, but word on the street is that the people of Central have begun calling him ‘Fullmetal and ‘The People’s Alchemist’. By all accounts, he is adored despite his barebones knowledge of practical alchemy, which, considering his reputation for remarkably complex - remarkably _creative_ \- theories, doesn’t make sense either. His twin brother Alphonse is just as odd: according to the rumors, his theoretical skill slightly exceeds his brother's, but performance-wise, he’s on the same level as his brother.

Even odder is the fact that every spring, like clockwork, they drop off the face of the map.

  
  
  


“The sun god, huh?” Ed meets Al’s eyes, smirking.

“ _Dada_ , no.”

  
  
  


A little girl with hair tied into braids almost the same shade of brown as their mother’s walks toward them, followed by a lady with close-cropped light brown hair.

“Can you fix it?” The girl asks, holding out a fraying rag doll.

“Sure,” Ed draws a simple array with the chalk in his pocket, gently takes the doll from her, places it in the center, and presses his hands to the circle. After the blue light dissipates, the doll appears, as good as new.

The girl beams as she picks it up. “Thank you!”

“It wasn’t a problem,” he murmurs, running his hand through her hair just like his cousin Hayat does to him and Al.

“What’s your name?” The girl asks.

He thinks of Al, of his family in so much more than blood, and of himself, with bronze skin and gold hair, and he answers.

“You can call me Fullmetal; what’s your name?”

“I’m Nina- Nina Hughes!” 

  
  
  


“Fullmetal sounds like something an thirteen-year-old would come up with,” Roy grumbles.

“I _am_ thirteen,” The kid pauses; for a moment, Roy assumes the kid’s waiting for Roy to say his rank and last name, which is his first mistake. “Colonel Stupid.”

“It’s _Mustang_.”

“Yeah, okay, Colonel Stupid. Anyways, I had my reasons for choosing Fullmetal.”

“I’m sorry about my brother,” the other boy pipes up.

“Thank yo-”

“But he does have a point.”

  
  
  


The slightly taller (older?) one’s appearance is easy to explain away: perhaps he’s from a particularly sunny region of Amestris. Golden hair and dark skin are unusual among Amestrians, but green eyes are decidedly less so. But the shorter (younger, most likely) is straight out of an old myth he used to know by heart.

If he didn’t _know_ for a fact that the children of the Sun had all died out years ago, he would have said that these boys were one of them.

The golden-eyed boy is looking straight up at him now, no fear or even concern in his face. Odd, for an Amestrian.

“What’s your name?”

“They call me Scar.”

“Mmm, don’t like that. Think I’ll just call you _dâyi_ instead.” The golden-eyed boy says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like he’s totally unaware of what Scar’s done.

“ _Dâyi_?” 

“Yeah, it means uncle - mom’s brother.”

Silence. Then,

“I am not your mother’s brother.”

“Eh, close enough.”

“I’m a monster.”

The Amestrian-eyed boy blinks at that. “Even if you are, you weren’t born one.”

“Edward! Alphonse!” The boys turn, revealing the sight of military officers alongside the Flame Alchemist.

“Stay away from him - he’s a murderer!”

For a second, Scar sees a challenge in the golden-eyed boy’s eyes: _If he’s a murderer, what are you?_

(Despite everything, he can’t help the jolt of worry that the sight inspires: that’s a dangerous attitude to have in a country like Amestris, and he’s seen enough children die.)

  
  
  


_(The Dreamer would hate you_ , Edward thinks of the soldiers - of Mustang - as they surround him, Al and _Dâyi_ ; it feels more like a certainty than a fleeting thought. _She would hate you for taking Her gifts and squandering them; She would hate you for killing Her children - people who you should be treating as your brothers and sisters._

Living in a country as militaristic as Amestris means that propaganda is commonplace, in newspapers and schools and speeches and radios. But he’s heard and seen what really happened in Ishval:

With the refugees came their stories of the war. The most prevalent ones were of the State Alchemists, the ones who used the science that should have helped to harm, the science that should have created to destroy.

“ _Dada_ ,” Al had whispered to him one night. “If alchemy does things like that, I don’t want to do any more alchemy.”)

“What’s your name?” The driver - Yoki, he thinks it might be - asks hesitantly.

He thinks about just telling him that he’s cast his name away, or that his name is Scar. 

_Dâyi_ slips out, unbidden, instead.

  
  


“They’re chimeras? And you’re a homunculus? That’s impossible!”

_“There’s a reason that a chimera is nothing but a myth,” Indu-attai had told him once, when he was smaller. “Allmother would never create such a grotesque thing.”_

“Nothing is impossible, kid.”

  
  


(The chimeras and Greed are all killed during the raid as they tried to get Al out and away from the violence.

He and Ed mourn, but with the knowledge that they made their choice with a clear head.

None of them were Xerxesian; Al doubts they would want Xerxesian burial rites.)

  
  
  


“C’mon,” the prince - Ling - practically pleads. “Two alchemists as talented as you must know how to find the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Ed glares at him; clearly, he doesn’t know what he’s getting into. Besides, he and Al would _never_ specialize in the branch of alchemy responsible for creating something as horrible as the Philosopher’s Stone.

“Immortality isn’t _worth it_.”

“Don’t be like that,” There’s an edge to his voice now, and before he or Al can take another step, Ling snaps his fingers; suddenly, there’s two people with blades to their necks. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”

  
  


“Why are you even looking for the Stone - you and the idiot prince who’s too stubborn to accept that immortality is only going to burn him in the end?”

(Ed sees the way this kid - hardly other than him, if he had to guess - and the prince look at each other, even if it was only in quick glances. 

Is gaining the throne - becoming _immortal_ \- worth losing all of that, worth throwing all of it away? He doesn’t think so.)

  
  
  


“You know Fullmetal?”

Maria nods, mutely.

“He says he knows a place that nobody will even think to look for you - according to him, nobody even knows it exists.”

(The village of Kalan welcomes Maria Ross just as it had welcomed the Elrics nearly ten years earlier.)

  
  
  


“You killed them,” the words - the _accusations_ \- even though they’re just whispers, feel like knives.

He remains silent.

“He’s the one that killed my mom and dad?” sounds a feminine voice from behind him. He keeps his eyes fixed on Edward and Alphonse until-

“Winry! Don’t shoot!”

Winry flinches; Ed leaps over Scar and lands in front of her, placing his hand over hers.

_(You would show your back to a threat?_ Scar thinks.

A second later, he realizes:

_This boy still doesn’t consider me a threat._ )

“ _I know you’re angry, but… killing people isn’t what you do. That’s not you._ ”

“What?” Winry whispers, and it’s then that Ed realizes he wasn’t speaking in Amestrian.

“It’s your hands,” the words lose some of their meaning translated, but they have to do. “They weren’t made to kill. They were made to give life.”

  
  
  


In the forest, Envy _brags_ about Ishval, and about how they were created.

_They were people._

_They were_ my _people._

When Ed swings at Envy, he’s almost disappointed that the homunculus remains unhurt.

  
  
  


“When I first met him, I hated the Colonel for what he did in Ishval,” Ed confesses to the Lieutenant; she looks up at him, but doesn’t say anything. “But now… I want to learn the story from both sides and make my own mind up. Is it okay if I ask you what happened in Ishval?”

  
  


“I have one last question,” he asks quietly after he’s heard it all. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old were you when you were sent to the war?”

“Seventeen.”

Arman is seventeen. And no matter how hard Ed tries, he can’t imagine the boy who used to ask Hayat for _ranginak_ whenever he could being sent to war - _killing_ people.

  
  
  


“He left to stop another one.”

“Yeah,” Al whispers.

“And according to this map, the next point on the circle is Briggs.”

“We need to warn them.”

_Let’s hope we’re not already too late._

  
  
  


“Are you Drachman spies?”

“Do we _look_ Drachman?”

“Brother!” 

Ed continues.

“We have a letter of introduction right here, too - from Major Armstrong!”

The man with the glasses murmurs something to the general. Surprisingly, she lets them in - but rips up the letter when he offers it to her. 

“Wha-”

“I judge people with my own eyes, not based on anyone else’s word.”

He respects that.

  
  
  


“You’re Ishvalan.”

“I am of Ishvalan blood, yes. And you’re sons of the Sun.”

“What does that mean?”

Major Miles looks surprised at that. “It’s an old Ishvalan myth that tells of people with hair and eyes as golden as the Sun. That’s where the name comes from.”

  
  
  


_I get it now. I_ get _why you went after all those State Alchemists,_ Ed thinks. It’s the same reason he wanted Envy to hurt so badly after they told him about Xerxes. But he doesn’t say anything because this moment isn’t about him. It’s about Winry and the man that killed her parents.

“I want to know why you killed them,” Winry states, voice firm.

“Anything I say will sound like an excu-“

“I don’t care. Tell me.”

The man looks up, red eyes meeting golden.

“Tell her,” Ed whispers.

And he tells her.

  
  
  


“I don’t think my sons consider me their father anymore. But that’s their right.”

“ _Bâbâ_!” Al calls.

“Hey, Dad.” Ed echoes.

Hohenheim blinks once, twice, at his sons - his _sons_.

“Wait- don’t _cry_!”

  
  


“So you’ve heard the horror stories of alchemy, but you still choose to do it.”

“Yeah,” Al begins almost hesitantly, throwing a quick look over his shoulder to where Ed is helping out with simple transmutations. “We want to use it to help others - but I think _Dada_ also wanted to prove to himself that alchemy _can_ be used to help others.”

  
  
  


Spring.

The Promised Day, and the New Year.

It’s ironic, if nothing else.

_Sorry, but we have to miss this year._

  
  
  


The last letters Van Hohenheim, Edward Elric and Alphonse Elric send before the Promised Day, to Trisha Elric, Pinako Rockbell and Winry Rockbell, simply read _Please get to Kalan, as soon as you can. Things might not go as we’re planning._

The last letters Van Hohenheim, Edward Elric and Alphonse Elric receive before the Promised Day, from Trisha Elric, Pinako Rockbell and Winry Rockbell, simply read _Thank you for worrying, but we’re not going to run from Amestris now._

  
  
  


In this moment, Ed doesn't trust Mustang. But he trusts Hawkeye, and he trusts _Dâyi._

_"You're turning into the monster I thought you were!"_

“Hawkeye,” Scar murmurs; Riza turns to face him, brown eyes widening. “I have one request for you.” His eyes are fixed in front of them - fixed on Edward.

“What is it?” Riza whispers. 

“This boy, this son of the Sun, he’s the best one out of all of us. If anything happens, protect him.”

There are several things she could say:

_Son of the Sun certainly fits._

_Thank you for trusting me with his safety._

_I’ll do what I can to make sure nothing happens._

“I will,” is what she says instead.

  
  
  


“Mei!” Ed shouts; the girl turns toward him, brown eyes wide. “You taught Al and I alkahestry; do you want to learn Xerxesian? It’s equivalent exchange.”

Mei blinks, then holds her hand out to shake with him. “Deal.” 

“Is this okay?” _Dâyi_ asks. “For you to be teaching us.”

"I know you said the Ishvalan language is a gift from Ishvala to Their children, and that you hold it close and cherish it.”

“Yes.”

“I guess you could say that Xerxesian is kind of similar, but the difference is that it’s a gift from the Dreamer, and She would want us to share it.”

“Ah,” Winry pipes up; he and Al had asked her if it was okay before even thinking of inviting _Dâyi_.

“So, yeah, it’s fine.”

  
  
  


“You’re leaving?” Winry asks.

“Sorry, Win, I-”

“No, it’s fine, you and Al are really good with sending letters. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t done my fair share of traveling in the last few years. Just- call the next time you come home.”

Ed falls silent.

“Ed? What is it?”

“Equivalent exchange! I’ll give you half of my life if you give me half of yours!”

Winry stares at him. 

_Alchemists. Seriously._

“That’s nonsense.”

“What?”

“I said, that’s nonsense! Why should I give you just half of my life?”

They stare at each other in silence, until Winry feels herself flush.

“Wait, no, not all of it- ninety? No, too much- seventy? No, that’s too little-”

_“You wanted to give me all of it?”_

After the two years Ed and Al stayed at home and began teaching her, Scar and Mei, Winry can safely say she understands more Xerxesian than she speaks. She’s known all their lives, though, that both brothers are being most genuine when they speak it.

“Maybe I did.”

Ed starts laughing at that, then takes a few steps forward and carefully wraps his arms around her.

“What?”

_“Then I’ll give you my whole life, too, to make it equivalent.”_

The train leaves.

Ed stays.


End file.
